if i look back, i am lost
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
we're not kids anymore.
Show & Tell
roma★
Kiana Khansmith
No title available
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
ojovivo
izzy's playlists!
Game of Thrones Daily
★
The Stonewall Inn
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
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sheepfilms
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@gettinghardtobesomeone
lee’s beatles sideblog
20, any pronouns. proship. john hating johngirl transsexual tme everygender dogbutch dyke insane about the beatles so i've made a sideblog to participate in the collective delirium that is beatles tumblr.
likes/follows from johnlennonforcefem
rpf warrior and mclennon truther 💪✊ let those old men bang
ship and let ship, don’t like don’t interact, etc.
on ao3 at getlonely | my mclennon playlist
Paul McCartney in Liverpool (2026) Photographer: okeeffephoto
thinking once again about “it’s like you and me are lovers”. oouuugggvhhgh. ouch.
Get High And Notice Basslines
hm. well hello there
he’s genuinely so dad in here i want to shrink and stay in his pocket
I spent months being harassed and bullied and have tried to distance myself from the people who where involved but they would NOT stop talking about me in a cruel way--not disagreeing with things I said, not criticizing me, but outright making cruel jokes about me as a person, many homophobic or transphobic. No, I’m not stalking anyone, no, I’ve not gone out of my way to harass people or sent any anons, and them asserting so certainly that they know a message that is anonymous is me? I can't wrap my head around that.
If posting passing commentary on a post is stalking, what do they call what they're doing to me, individuals whom I have also blocked? I’ve set my boundaries and people can’t accept that. Even now, the outright lies are genuinely hard to even take in, especially from someone I used to consider a very close friend. I'm sorry they feel that way and I wish things hadn't gotten to this point. I'm just sad. It just makes me sad.
You guys have followed me a long time. You've seen my posts. You know I've never returned the fire or the hate these blogs are sending me. I've only ever been open and honest with the harassment I've received, and I've provided proof. Where is theirs? There isn't any.
guy who is full of shit flees when people call them on their shit and blames a different, barely involved person for their departure by throwing out a slurry of lies and baseless accusations. many such cases.
John Lennon, Paul McCartney, George Martin in recording session for Sgt Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band (1967) Source: Beatles-Photos
I think a lot of folk are projecting a lot of big feelings and strife onto a person who is far less involved in their interpersonal drama than they think.
Venus as a boy
could you.. mayhaps.. do smut art of mal evans x paul? their size difference is everything to me
love your art!!! xoxoxoxoxoxo xx
(´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)!!! yes ( • ̀ω ⁃᷄)✧
[the rest of this drawing has been expatriated to ao3 for its safety]
They falsely implied some pretty horrific things about someone regarding something EASILY verifiable...people were understandably upset....and their response is oh well he could have done it?? Brother WHAT?
You do backflips when people post about John Lennon's abuse to discredit them but now you're going to die on the hill that Paul still COULD have been a pedophile on the basis that he's rich even though there is zero other evidence?
By your logic John Lennon could be a pedophile. Maybe this isn't about Paul or John fans maybe this is about making things up on the internet over and over again.
Maybe we shouldn't accuse people of being pedophiles based on vibes. As a survivor of childhood sexual abuse all this does is obfuscate and discredit credible accusations.
“okay so maybe he isn’t a pedophile but he COULD HAVE BEEN” if my grandmother had wheels she would’ve been a bike
JOHN LENNON THE BEATLES: GET BACK (2021) episode 2: day 16
John Lennon, October 9, 1940 – December 8, 1980.
i need her
The White Rabbit glanced sideways at John.
“So, what happened in court?”
John sighed. In his right hand, he held a sandwich, and an empty teacup — in his left.
“The jury changed their minds,” he grunted. “Then someone read poetry.”
“Yours?”
“Fortunately, no. Would you be so kind and pass me the teapot please?”.
The White Rabbit rolled onto his side, towards the teapot. The afternoon sun was merciless to John's eyes. He raised a hand to his forehead and looked at the Rabbit.
“Why do you care, anyway?” John wondered after a moment. “You were in court yourself.”
“This is a dream. Can never know who I happen to visit and what are the exact circumstances. Even with the tea — you have it one way, and someone else... well, will have it different. Salty, for example.”
“What if mine is salty?”
“Try and find out,” the rabbit said gravely.
He rolled onto his back again and stared at the sky. John smiled at him and took a sip from his cup.
“It’s a coffee.”
“There you go.”
They lay in silence for another five minutes. The rabbit was staring at John with his stupid beautiful wide eyes.
“Who else do you appear in a dream to, besides me?” John asked jealously.
“No one, for now..”
“And for… later?”
“How would you like it to be?” the rabbit suddenly asked.
He twitched his ears comically, as if nervous.
“I’d be pleased if you were only mine. In a dream, you know,” John answered honestly.
“You know my name, look up the number,” the rabbit said and winked at him. “You know my name.”
“I don’t, actually,” John whispered and sank down into the grass.
The empty coffee cup rolled away. The sandwich, for now, decided to stay. John buried his face in the rabbit’s shoulder and sighed.
“You know,” the rabbit grunted. “You’re so heavy.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“I want you.”
“What?”
“My name.”
John lifted his head and rubbed his eyes. The world was slowly returning to its usual.
“Fuck, you’re heavy,” Paul whispered softly in his ear. “My shoulder’s gone numb.”
“Was I asleep?” John mumbled.
“Yeah, the whole way. I didn’t want to wake you.”
John smiled and settled more comfortably on his shoulder.
“Paul.”
“What?”
“Nothing, just... Paul. Look up my number. You know my name... Look up my number. You know my name…”
